


chickens & nightmares

by flosculatory



Series: the bb!NBT series [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Chicken Pox, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 01:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flosculatory/pseuds/flosculatory
Summary: Being the new kid is hard. Being the new kid who talks differently from everyone else is a problem. Being the new kid who talks differently from everyone elseandhas scabs from healing chicken pox? That’s a nightmare.





	chickens & nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IAmANonnieMouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Arthur and The Great Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10505502) by [IAmANonnieMouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse). 



> This here crack is a birthday present for [IAmANonnieMouse](http://iamanonniemouse.tumblr.com), aka Mousie, aka my one true love and eternal flame. Only, her birthday was actually yesterday and I am only posting this now because I am a procrastinating mess of a student and was still rattled from having to write a 14-page reflection assignment but that is neither HERE NOR THERE.
> 
> Happy birthday, Mousie! You deserve the best! But instead, you're going to get this bb!AU based on your ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE FIC THAT YOU'VE EVER WRITTEN, Arthur and the Great Dragon. Because when I said that I would adopt this fic, it meant that I would shower it with content that was unasked for and possibly unwanted. OH WELL, ENJOY.

Being the new kid is hard. Being the new kid who talks differently from everyone else is a problem. Being the new kid who talks differently from everyone else _and_ has scabs from healing chicken pox? That’s a nightmare.

This is what Eames was thinking as he sat alone at a table, absentmindedly drawing shapes while watching all of the other kids playing with toys on the carpet. He briefly wondered how this nightmare compared to the one where he was a bird who got eaten by a fish, and established that this was much, much worse. 

“Of course you’ll make friends, ducky!” his mother had said. 

“Just give ‘em that bright Eames smile and you’ll have them falling over!” his father had said.

 _Well they were dumb and also wrong_ , Eames thought bitterly. The odds were stacked against him from the start. The first kid he tried to talk to made a face and walked away. The next few actually screamed. He tried giving a kind-looking girl his biggest Eames smile and she pulled back so fast that she tripped over a block and fell down. (Okay, so maybe Eames’ dad _was_ right, but Eames didn’t think that that was exactly what he meant.)

The point was, Eames was ready to march back into his house after school and ask, no, _demand_ that his parents end this silly joke about moving to America and take him back to England immediately, if not faster. This would not stand, this nightmare was too much, if he didn’t get his way he would–

“Hello? Eames?” A little hand waved in front of his face, jolting Eames from the angry speech he was making in his head.

“I said, can I sit here?” The hand belonged to a boy, smaller than he, with a fancy shirt and a furrowed brow. _Arthur_ , Eames remembered.

Eames motioned toward the seat beside him, which Arthur took. “Did Miss Miles make you come sit with me?” Eames asked miserably.

“No,” Arthur answered, confused.

“Did you lose a game and so they made you come talk to the weirdo at the table?” Eames continued, his eyes back on his paper.

“No one made me do anything,” Arthur snapped. “Besides, I left the game because I was tired of hearing Alec talk to his stupid hat.”

“It looks like it’s eating his head,” Eames agreed, looking up when Arthur laughed. Eames offered a small smile back.

“So why _did_ you come here?”

Arthur shrugged. “Wanted to see what you were drawing. Is it a bird?”

“A peacock,” Eames said. “They have the best feathers.”

Arthur considered this. “I like flamingos. And they’re easy to draw, too!” He picked up Eames’ pink crayon and started drawing on one side of the paper. When he was done, Eames drew a matching one but added a peacock tail. 

Arthur was laughing at Eames’ bird when a girl yelled from the carpet, interrupting their drawing. “Arthur!” she called. She looked pointedly from Arthur to Eames, and back.

Arthur glared back and sighed. “Melissa wants to know why your skin is like that. But I told her it was none of her business.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Eames said solemnly, picking at one of his scabs. “I had the chicken pox.”

“Did you turn into a chicken?” Arthur asked, amazed.

Eames snickered. “No, I just got really itchy.”

“Hm, not as cool.” Arthur turned back to the sheet of paper and started drawing a picture of an angry chicken.

After a few seconds of companionable silence, Eames broke. “So you’re not… scared, or anything?” he asked hesitantly.

Arthur snorted. “Why would I be scared?”

“Everyone else screamed when I tried to talk to them.”

Arthur made a face. “Well, I don’t really scream a lot. It makes my head hurt.”

“Me too! So now we can be friends!” Eames said, before giving Arthur a look of concern. “We _can_ be friends, right?”

“Sure,” Arthur said. “I would be glad to be your friend.” He put his hand out for Eames to shake, but Eames just wrapped him up in a hug instead.

When he let go, Eames looked at his dotted arms and frowned. “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot my arms were covered in scabs.”

“Nah, I think they look cool. Like dragon scales!” Arthur said, poking at them.

“Really?”

Arthur nodded firmly.

“Well then you can call me... The Great Dragon!” Eames declared, letting out a roar.

Arthur fell over laughing, and Eames helped him up while the teacher yelled a warning from her desk.

As Arthur wiped away his tears from laughing, Eames had his brightest Eames smile on as he poked one of Arthur's dimples.

 _I was wrong,_ Eames thought. _If this is a dream, it’s a good one._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, Mal isn't paid enough to deal with these kiddos. Also, the fact that "dragons & feathers" would also have been a great title for this fic is not lost on me and I am aware that there is no actual variety in my writing. Time to write another Microsoft Office-themed fic, I guess.
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://flosculatory.tumblr.com) if you must. And [GO WISH MOUSIE A BELATED BIRTHDAY](http://iamanonniemouse.tumblr.com).


End file.
